


Flame

by Gnattine, LandOfCrystalAndRadiance (Gnattine)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Espionage, Kidnapping, Original Fiction, Other, Torture, Violence, not even sure if this will have a happy or sad ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-24 03:16:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15621324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gnattine/pseuds/Gnattine, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gnattine/pseuds/LandOfCrystalAndRadiance
Summary: Perhaps an explanation is in order.I do not recall my former name, that person who I once was has long since died.Now, I am Flame.





	Flame

**Author's Note:**

> idea that's been plaguing my thoughts lately. probably nonsensical. also yes the tags suck, i'll try to fix that up later. basically little Flame was kidnapped and forced to be member of some assassination academy or whatever, explaining it is hard tbh.

0500 hour.

You have exactly sixty seconds to get out of bed, gather your things, and make your bed; Not a wrinkle in the sheets, not a fiber out of place. Provided you complete the basic tasks and be at attention for The Warden in the allotted time, you will be given permission to advance forward. 

This means to the washrooms. You are supplied with one toothbrush and one toothpaste per month. It is your responsibility to keep your things locked up tight in your personal washroom locker. Oh, and you would be the only one aware of the code. No one else has record of it. So do not forget it. Or you are shit out of luck. 

If you do not complete those first tasks of the day, you will be taken back to Basics. Basics is, while less intensive in individual aspects, much more draining. There’s a reason everyone strives so hard to pass, and not be sent back. Yes, the training in upper levels is intense, but only in bursts for the most part. In Basics, it is nearly non-stop. 

Allow me to explain Basics. It is a sort of introduction to what you will be facing. Unlike joining most military programs, you do not have a choice. If you wake up in a bunk, that is your life from then on. Basics does, of course, accommodate to those new to strenuous physical activity. However, as they are aware of your limits, they are _aware of your limits._ They will push you to your breaking point, and only let up just before you break. The moment before it becomes too much, they relent and let you rest. It is taxing in every way imaginable.

I graduated from Basics about 4 months after I was ~~abducted~~ recruited. I had been physically fit beforehand, which is likely why I was targeted. I was foolish. I enjoyed physical exertion, the burn in my muscles after every game or performance. I have a photographic memory, so I could easily memorize plays and routines. I was on the cheer squad, dance team, volleyball, soccer, anything and everything I could be on. And I was good. I was among the most popular in my school. I had so many friends, people I cared for.

Dear fucking God, I wish I had been more cautious. 

I just never really considered that the Syndicate would take an interest in me. I admit, I am gifted. I have extreme endurance, a high pain tolerance, and flexibility bordering on elasticity. I’m quick, light on my feet, and have cat-like reflexes. 

I dreamed of being in the Olympics someday. Gymnastics, figure skating, soccer, tennis, swimming, anything. I seemed to excel at everything I’d take up. Within days of taking ballet, I was able to go en pointe perfectly, somehow painlessly. I was four years old. 

I craved physical activity. I was a straight-A student, the lowest grade I ever got was an A-. It wasn’t that I wanted to be the best. I did not seek superiority. But testing my own limits, pushing myself until I achieved the absolute best I was physically capable of, that is what drove me from the moment I was able to understand conscious thought. At the time, I had not considered the possible negative ramifications, I simply strived to improve, continue improving, relentlessly.

That was the problem. I suppose I got my wish. I no longer have a choice. Every single day, I am pushed to my very limit. I no longer have a choice, I no longer find contentment in it. I despise every day of my life, if it can be called a life…

And the only escape from this torment is death. I do not wish to die. I wish to be free. However, I cannot. The chip implanted behind my head, woven through the nerves at the top of my spine, will inform them immediately of any fatal injury, suicidal thoughts, anything that would put one of their weapons at risk. And so, rebellion is not an option. Disobedience is not an option. Death is not an option. This suffering is all I will ever know for the rest of my life. I have no choice.

I seem to have digressed severely. But I am out of time now. Ah, that’s another thing. We have precisely 30 minutes of “free” time every day. My time is up. I am about to be sent on another mission. Assassination, of course. My ‘specialty’...

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are encouraged, pretty please gimme feedback!


End file.
